


Take Another Look

by MarisaKateBella



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Awkward Daryl, Daryl is sprung, Glenn Maggie and Carol are little shits, M/M, Possessive Rick, Rick shaves his beard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 09:30:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3322421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarisaKateBella/pseuds/MarisaKateBella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Ya havin’ some trouble there?” he asked, amused and glad to have something to focus on besides the current state of undress that his best friend was in and the not-so-friendly thoughts he was having about it. </p><p>Rick chuckled and reached up to touch the patch on his lower face that was peeking through a froth of white foam. He raised his hunting knife with his other hand, looking at the blade instead of Daryl’s face. “I haven’t ever used anything but a razor before…to be honest, I’ve never dealt with this much facial hair in my life.”</p><p>OR</p><p>Rick is hopeless at shaving, so Daryl lends him a hand...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Another Look

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rickylpls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rickylpls/gifts).



> Wrote this for my dear friend, Kayleigh (rickylpls.tumblr.com), hope you enjoy it, love! (*Thanks to Jay, as always for the betaing!)

“Hey, Daryl!” Carl greeted as he came crashing out of the house, pulling on his jacket as he sprinted down the stairs of the porch.

“Where you goin’?” Daryl barked after the boy, who skidded to a halt and spun on his heel.

“Just down the street to the field, we’re playing soccer.”

Daryl got up from the wicker rocking chair he’d been lounging in and leaned against the paint-chipped railing. “Your dad know?”

The young boy looked down guiltily, toeing the earth with his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Mm, that’s what I thought.” Daryl scratched at his chin. “Well, all right, get on with ya, be back before dark.”

The sheriff’s hat lifted up, giving Daryl a glance at the smile beneath. “Okay, thanks!”

“Boy!” Daryl called as Carl made to take off again. “You got yer knife?”

Carl lifted up the back of his blue denim without turning around, revealing the dark handle of his weapon.

“Git outta here,” Daryl sighed as he watched Carl dart off.

He lost sight of him as he rounded the corner on the opposite side of the street. Almost as quickly as he disappeared, Carol came into view, carrying a basket of laundry on her hip and a rifle over her shoulder. When she climbed the stairs Daryl made his way over to her, holding his hands out for the basket. She twisted so that he missed, giving him a stern look before dropping the hamper onto the ground.

“If you wanna help, you can fold,” Carol stated as she pointed at the laundry, before sitting in one of the chairs and plucking a grey shirt from the load.

Daryl rolled his eyes at her but dragged over the chair he’d been sitting in before so that he was opposite her on the wide porch.

“Where was Carl off to?” Carol asked, making light conversation.

“Playin’ with the other kids,” Daryl responded before digging into the clothes, avoiding the bras and underwear that littered the mix. He pulled out a pair of black jeans and began to smooth them down.

“That’s good,” Carol sighed. “Rick said it was all right?”

Daryl shrugged. “Dunno where he is. I told Carl he could go. He’s got his knife on him, he’ll be okay. Gotta be back by dusk, though.” When, he looked up from folding the pants he had in his hands, he saw Carol watching him with a smile, blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

“What?” he growled bluntly, not particularly liking the way she was looking at him.

“Nothing.” Carol waved her hand at him, though she was still grinning.

He huffed and yanked another item from the pile between them. It was a stained white tank top with some sort of elastic contraption sticking out of the top. He stared at it for a second, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Give that here,” Carol chuckled, motioning for the clothing.

Daryl purposely missed the hand that she was reaching with, tossing it into her chest instead. She caught the fabric with her other hand before leaning forward to smack him on the knee.

“You’re not even helpful.” She shook her head before flicking the material so that the elastic fell inside, folding it neatly and placing it on top of the jeans.

“Whatever.” Daryl dug in his pocket, pulling out the carton of cigarettes he’d scored by trading a squirrel with Phil from up the street. They sat quietly for a little while, listening to the distant sound of the children laughing.

“Did you give me any of your laundry? I don’t remember, and there’s nothing here that’s yours,” Carol said as she dug through the remaining pieces of clothing.

“I can do my own, woman. You ain’t gotta take care of me.”

“I’d say that’s fine, but we both know you won’t do it. No one’s gonna want to make friends with you if you’re gonna smell as bad as the walkers.”

He narrowed his eyes at her as he twisted his cigarette between his fingers, putting the burning ember out with his boot before standing and tucking the butt into his pocket. “All right, I can take a hint. Where’re the damn shower tokens?”

“Inside, in a jar on a counter. It’s been a week, how do you not know where they are?”

Daryl flicked his middle finger at her without looking as he opened the screen door leading into the house. He felt something hit his backside and turned around to see Carol innocently folding a long, white-sleeved t-shirt. With a roll of his eyes he walked into the house. Inside, the kitchen was off to the right with a decent sized living room parallel to it. The open floor plan made it easy for anyone to see from either room into the other. Glenn was sitting on the couch with Maggie, whose head was in his lap and appeared to be dozing.

After a few minutes of looking around for the stupid cardboard tokens that they’d received when they’d been inducted into Alexandria a little over a week ago, he gave up and sighed. “Hey, Glenn?”

“Yeah?” Glenn turned towards him from where he’d been reading, his hand stopping carding through Maggie’s hair, which, in turn, caused her to sit up on her elbows so that she was looking at him too.

“Carol said the damn shower tokens were ‘round here. You know where they are?”

Without answering, the couple on the couch burst into laughter.

Daryl gritted his teeth and ducked down to look through one of the cabinets. They were all sparsely packed with canned goods and a few cooking tools. He heard someone come into the kitchen, but he didn’t look over to see who it was; instead, he kept digging through the same cabinet.

“Here,” Maggie said, her voice colored with amusement.

He got up from his crouch and turned around, kicking the door shut with his foot. The brunette was holding the cardboard between two fingers, when he made a grab for it she pulled it out of his grasp.

“What d’ya say?” she teased, smiled prettily at him.

“Thanks. Now fuckin’ give it to me.”

She tossed it at him before flouncing back over to the couch and flopping down on her stomach, burying her face in Glenn’s thigh. He went back to petting her hair without looking away from his book. With a shake of his head Daryl pocketed the coin and stomped out of the house, not looking back as he made his way towards the bathhouse. He remembered the way from when they’d taken their tour on the first day.

Alexandria was a decent sized place—like a small town, really. They had some pretty impressive walls around it, and most days you couldn’t even hear the rasping voices of the dead. It was strange to Daryl; the perfectness of it all made him edgy and uncomfortable. Fortunately, his destination wasn’t too far from the house where his family had been put up and he managed to make it there without any interactions with anyone else.

The bathhouse had been built on the outskirts, near one of the walls, well away from most of the houses. Daryl knew that some of the nicer houses had their own running water, but, in order to conserve, they’d had the baths erected and rerouted most of the piping. It was a sturdy structure that looked like a long log cabin. He walked up the creaking stairs and entered the building, a young woman was sitting to the left behind a counter. When he approached, she smiled.

"Token?” she asked sunnily, holding out her hand.

He dropped it into her palm without looking up at her, his heart beating uncomfortably in his chest. He turned around quickly, hoping to head through the curtain and into the main part of the building.

“S—sir?” The pretty blonde called to get his attention.

He turned back around and grunted, glancing at her from under his bangs.

“Um…would you like some soap? Or…a towel?”

It was only then that he noticed she was holding both up in her hands, one eyebrow raised. He stomped over to her and snatched both out of her hands before spinning around on his heel again, feeling his cheeks heating. “Thanks,” he tossed over his shoulder, but it was so quiet he didn’t even know if she’d caught it.

After he walked through the curtain he took a moment to look around. The building was a long hallway, with five doors on either side. They were large stalls, almost like separate rooms, except that the tops and the bottoms of the doors didn’t touch either the ceiling or the ground. A sign hung from each, either vacant or occupied. Daryl noticed that the second door to his right was occupied, so he went all the way to the end and took the stall on the left, making sure to turn his sign around as he entered.

He sighed before reaching up to hook his towel over the side of the shower, just a shower head that poked out of the wall with a drain in the floor.  He turned and dropped his vest onto the closed toilet lid before making his way over to the mirror about the sink.

In front of the mirror, he had to lean over at an odd angle in order to look at his face properly. He reached up to touch his cheek, looking for any traces of cuts or bruises, and finding none for maybe the first time since the world had gone to hell. With a sigh he straightened up and began unbuttoning the thick black shirt he was wearing, slipping it off his arms. He was just about to pull the yellow-tinged wife-beater he had on underneath when he heard a clatter...and a familiar voice mutter, “shit.”

He waited a moment, unsure if he’d heard correctly, but when the same thing happened again, he spoke. “Rick?”

There was a long pause where all he could hear was the rushing of his blood in his ears, sure that he had heard incorrectly and had just made a fool of himself.

“Daryl?”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, before running a hand over his face. “Yeah, it’s me, man.”

“Oh…hey.” There was another long moment of silence.

Daryl’s hands hovered on the edge of his shirt, wondering if that was as far as their stilted conversation was going to go.

“Shit.” He heard Rick hiss again.

“E’erything a’right?” Daryl managed to ask, though his throat was closing up around the awkwardness.

“Yeah—I just—well, no. Not really.” He sounded uncharacteristically frustrated, but not in any immediate danger.

Daryl sighed through his nose. “Where ya at?”

“Last door on the right, why?”

Daryl chewed on his lip for a second before opening his door and padding across the narrow hall. He knocked on the door. “Ya decent?”

“Um—yeah. Yeah, I am,” Rick answered from inside.

Daryl pushed the heavy wooden door open a crack and slipped inside, but not before reaching up and flipping the sign around. “Ya didn’t flip yer—“ Daryl started but trailed off, swallowing his words when he caught sight of Rick.

He was standing in front of the mirror, a thick blue towel wrapped loosely around his hips, hanging low. The skin of his back was shining slightly from the humidity of the room where steam was still hanging heavily. Rick had turned and looked at him expectantly when Daryl had stopped talking. His intent blue eyes saw where Daryl’s eyes had focused. Rick honest-to-god blushed slightly, dropping a hand to hike up the towel, covering the defined lines of his hips.

Daryl swallowed, feeling sweat beading on his forehead that had nothing to do with the leftover heat from the shower hanging in the air. He managed to drag his eyes away and snap them up to Rick’s face. He barked out a laugh, surprising both himself and Rick.

“Ya havin’ some trouble there?” he asked, amused and glad to have something to focus on besides the current state of undress that his best friend was in and the not-so-friendly thoughts he was having about it.

Rick chuckled and reached up to touch the patch on his lower face that was peeking through a froth of white foam. He raised his hunting knife with his other hand, looking at the blade instead of Daryl’s face. “I haven’t ever used anything but a razor before…to be honest, I’ve never dealt with this much facial hair in my life.” He ran a hand through his wet, curled hair. A lock sprang free and fell onto his forehead. “Lori hated it,” he mentioned, looking down and twisting the blade back and forth so that it glinted in the dim light.

Daryl’s heart dropped and he felt himself nod slightly. “Can’t help that the lightin’ sucks and the mirror’s so damn small ya’ can hardly see yer whole face.”

Rick looked at him gratefully, smiling behind the foam that covered his face. “Yeah, that, too.”

Daryl could hear his heart beating a frantic rhythm against his ribs, but he ignored it, taking a step closer to Rick and holding out his hand. He swallowed as Rick looked questioningly from his outstretched hand to his face. “I’ll do it.”

“What?”

Daryl shrugged and took another step closer. “I can do it, been shavin’ with a knife my whole life.”

Rick put the knife in his hand without hesitation, a look of relief on his face. “Oh, thanks. I’d appreciate it. I don’t think I can stand another day of Judith pulling at it.”

Daryl clasped his hand around the handle, brushing against Rick’s fingers as he pulled away. His heart picked up double time, and it was all he could do to not breathe too deeply. He attempted to keep his breathing even and his face impassive.

This was a spectacularly bad idea.

“Um—Daryl?” Rick questioned dipping his head and tilting it slightly so he could look him in the eye. “You all right?”

“What? Yeah, ‘m fine.” He blinked rapidly, his eyes fixed on a bead of either sweat or water rolling down Rick’s neck. He swallowed.

“Okay…well, I was just askin’ where’d ya want me?”

“Uh, here’s fine—I mean, unless…unless you wanna sit?” Daryl could feel Rick’s eyes on him, but he avoided looking up, instead he wiped the blade of the knife against his pants to get the remaining hair and foam off of it from Rick’s poor attempt at shaving.

“No, no…here’s fine.” Rick shifted so that he was leaning with the base of his spine against the sink, his hands resting on either side of it.

“A’right.”

They stared at each other.

“So…you gonna do it from all the way over there?” Rick smirked, raising an eyebrow in question.

“No,” Daryl snapped, narrowing his eyes before walking closer.

Rick spread his legs a bit so that Daryl could get close enough to see what he was doing. With a slightly shaking hand he reached past Rick to turn on the faucet, bringing their bodies unnervingly close together. He could feel Rick’s breath on his ear, and the rising and fall of his chest brushing against his own. When the water was running slightly warm, Daryl straightened back up. Rick was looking at him, his blue eyes warm and intense. Daryl assessed the frankly monstrous beard that had overtaken the lower half of Rick’s face. The small patch by his ear that was absent of foam had two small nicks in it that were bright red, and one was beginning to drip slightly. He reached his finger up and wiped way the small bit of blood. He felt more than heard the intake of Rick’s breath on the inside of his wrist.

Daryl finally made eye contact with him for the first time since stepping closer. Rick’s mouth was closed, lips curled in on themselves to keep the foam from getting inside but his eyes were simmering. Daryl breathed out once, slowly, getting his wits together before reaching up to smooth some of the foam over the patch that Rick had made. With his left hand he gripped Rick’s chin and turned it to the side, placing the blade flat against his cheek.

“Daryl,” Rick’s voice was soft, although Daryl jumped like a gun had gone off. “Daryl,” Rick repeated, placing a hand in the crook of Daryl’s left elbow. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

Daryl nodded, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, chewing on a piece of the skin. He scraped the blade gently down Rick’s cheek. The sharp edge made quick work of the beard, as thick and long as it was. He reached around Rick’s hip to rinse the blade, accidently brushing his bare arm against the pale flesh there. His heart stuttered in his chest, and his grip on Rick’s chin slipped slightly.

He worked silently, ignoring the fact that he could feel Rick’s eyes on him the whole time. He didn’t even speak to ask Rick to move. Instead, he gently guided with his left hand, tilting Rick’s head back and forth as he worked on his cheeks.

“Did you see Carl at all?” Rick asked when Daryl had finished a section and was rinsing the blade.

It clattered into the sink as Daryl let go of it in surprise. He grabbed at the now wet handle with a curse. “Yeah, he went off to play with the other kids. Figure he’d be back home by now.”

“Good.” Daryl could hear the relief in his voice. “That’s good.”

Daryl hummed in reply before going back to work, tilting Rick’s chin up so he could get at the delicate skin of his throat. Rick’s eyes narrowed into slits as he looked down his nose at Daryl. After the first swipe of the blade, his eyes flickered close and he released a content sigh that shot straight down from Daryl’s arm into his groin. He unintentionally shifted forwards, brushing against Rick as he did so. The contact flooded blood into places it really had no business being at the moment. Daryl took a step backwards, making quick work of the rest of Rick’s beard in silence, touching as little of him as possible. It only took a few more minutes before he was finished.

The moment he was done he took a quick step backwards, dropping his hand from Rick’s face. Rick rubbed a hand over his face, before turning around and grabbing a small bottle labeled ‘lotion’ and smearing the white cream over his cheeks. When he turned back around, Daryl found himself staring, unable to look away. The man that was standing before him had flashed him back to two years ago, as he stumbled out of the bushes onto a scene of his dead deer torn apart by walkers and a hapless, handsome man in a too big white t-shirt and jeans standing over it. His mouth went dry. And, he was certain that if walkers were trying to tear down the bathhouse, he’d be incapable of doing anything about it.

“What?” Rick rubbed a hand subconsciously over his now-smooth chin. “It look that bad?” he chuckled, turning to look in the mirror.

Daryl took the opportunity and opened the door without answering, slipping away and scurrying across the hall into his own stall. He closed the door and ripped his wife-beater off, feeling like his skin was on fire. The heat of arousal burned throbbed under his ripped jeans. Disoriented, he stumbled over to the counter, turning the knob and splashing cool water on his face. His heart was beating frantically.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. “Daryl?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned the water off and went over to pat his face dry.

“Daryl, c’mon…I’m in a towel, let me in.”

“Fine,” Daryl growled before realizing his erection was still pulsing and could easily be seen through the fabric of his jeans. He managed to swipe his vest off the toilet just as Rick slipped in and closed the door.

His eyes went straight to Daryl white-knuckling his vest.

“What d’ya want?” Daryl snapped. “Gotta shower…pretty sure Carol won’t lemme back in the house till I do.”

Rick hummed but didn’t respond, walking towards Daryl with predatory intent. Daryl tripped slightly over his wife beater, thrown on the floor, and backed up against the far wall. “R—Rick?”

Rick crowded up near him. The look in his indigo eyes was fierce, the same uncompromising look that had come over Rick when he’d found Daryl struggling for breath, caged in the arms of their enemy. Daryl’s heart pounded in his chest, he should be afraid, the way Rick was looking at him was possessive but instead it heated his blood to an almost painful burn.

Without taking his eyes off Daryl he reached down, tugging Daryl’s vest out of his hands and throwing it forcefully behind him. Daryl swallowed and Rick’s sharp eyes flicked down to the movement, tilting his head slightly, assessing. He took a step closer, wedging a knee in between Daryl’s legs.

“You want this?” Rick’s voice was low and husky, the same way it was when he was making all those tough decisions that had led them here.

Daryl took a shuddering breath, brushing their chests together as his ribs expanded. Rick’s hands came up to rest on either side of Daryl’s head, his biceps flexing as he leaned forwards slightly, his face going out of focus as he hovered just in front of Daryl.

“You gotta say somethin’,” Rick whispered, so close that when his lips moved they brushed faintly against Daryl’s.

“Yes,” Daryl managed to gasp, his voice shaking more than he’d like to admit. His whole body yearning for Rick’s touch.

His wish was granted—in the next moment Rick had tipped his head, just enough to catch Daryl’s bottom lip between his own, sucking all of Daryl’s breath out of his body. Daryl’s hands came up clumsily, clutching at Rick’s hipbones, just above the towel draped around his waist. Rick took another step forward, invading Daryl’s space more than he thought possible, drawing their bodies together. Daryl’s hands slipped easily around Rick’s back, running his fingers over the smooth expanse of his shoulder blades.

The kiss was soft and gentle, a few touches of their lips between shaking breaths. Rick’s hands moved into Daryl’s hair, one thumb stroking his cheek. Daryl opened his eyes when Rick rested their forehead together. They breathed in each other’s air for a few moments before Rick’s hands slipped behind Daryl’s back pulling them together in a tight embrace. Daryl buried his face in the side of Rick’s neck, sliding their cheeks against each other.

He felt something wet and warm on his own shoulder where Rick’s forehead rested and he gently traced nonsensical patterns on Rick’s back, waiting patiently for Rick to say something, knowing that this was more for Rick, than himself.

“Thank you,” Rick finally whispered against his collarbone before shifting slightly so that he could look at Daryl, cupping his cheek again.

Daryl blushed and glanced away, although he brought a hand up to wrap around Rick’s wrist. “Helluva thank you for a shave.”

Rick flexed his fingers slightly, digging into Daryl’s cheek so that Daryl would look up at him. “Thank you for takin’ care of me. For takin’ care of my family.”

“It’s what we do,” Daryl replied steadfastly, staring at Rick, whose eyes had started shimmering with unshed tears. Daryl leaned forward and brushed their lips together again.

Rick’s eyes fluttered closed. They rested their foreheads together.

“Don’t ever leave me, again.” Rick’s voice was raspy and vulnerable, so different than Daryl had ever heard it.

Daryl’s heart fluttered in his chest. “Never.” He whispered it like a promise.

Rick nuzzled the side of his face, rubbing his smooth cheek against Daryl’s slightly rougher one. He pulled back slightly to kiss him again before finally stepping away. When they finally broke apart, Rick’s gaze fluttered down Daryl’s body to where his situation was more pronounced than it had been before. “Sorry ‘bout that…” Rick chuckled once. “I’ll take care of it next time. Take a shower, you smell like a walker.” With that, he turned and left, but not before Daryl managed to pick his vest off the ground and throw it at Rick’s retreating form.

“Asshole,” Daryl muttered after him as the door swung shut. He could hear Rick’s laughter as he turned the cold knob on the shower and began to undress.


End file.
